


Catharsis and the Primal Scream

by DixieDale



Category: The Girl from U.N.C.L.E., The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 13:25:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18181181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: Every job, more or less, has its moments of stress, just as every person has their own way of handling the stress - some form of catharsis, up to and including a primal scream.  That applies to those who work for the New York Headquarters of the U.N.C.L.E. just as much as anyone else.  Occasionally that catharsis can take a more interesting turn than you might expect.  Take the aftermath of that round of April Fools' pranks, for instance.





	Catharsis and the Primal Scream

 

**April 8th:**

Having gotten to her desk earlier than usual due to a surprising lack of traffic, Lisa Rogers had thought to get started on the day's task list, but instead found herself lingering over her morning coffee, nibbling at her prune danish, listing the people, the events that had really pissed her off recently.

She did that periodically, found it amazingly cathartic, especially when she added what she would have LIKED her response to have been in each case, instead of her invariably calm and professional one. Lisa had a very vivid imagination, though no one at work would ever have believed that, and this was one occasion when she gave it free rein.

She had a whole bunch of little 'add ons' that helped her remember what she'd decided for each person, each annoyance. 'DA' equalled being dropped from an airplane without a parachute, 'SV' equalled being smothered in poisonous vipers, 'BA' equalled being buried alive - you know, that sort of easy to remember code. On one memorable occasion, she'd annotated Mark Slate's name with BA/SV, to indicate buried alive WITH poisonous vipers. A little extreme, perhaps, but she felt the occasion truly HAD warranted that. There were several codes she used. She was particularly fond of the 'FH' code, where the limbs of the offender would be attached to the harness of four wild horses, each headed in a different direction before the shot that would send them galloping off. She frequently replayed that one in her mind late at night in the privacy of her bedroom; she found it highly stimulating.

Not surprisingly, certainly familiar names appeared quite frequently: Napoleon Solo, Illya Kuryakin, Mark Slate, April Dancer, Mandy Stevenson, George Dennell. There were others, of course, but those, those were primary repeat offenders. {"I'm going to have to start another list, perhaps two. The events that annoyed me the MOST, and the number of times any one individual was involved in being annoying. Or maybe I'll just add stars or x's to this one."}

She looked down over the list she'd made so far and stopped in surprise to realize that, for the first time, she'd included Miriam Waverly, Mrs. Alexander Waverly, on the list. She wasn't sure which was more surprising, that the woman HADN'T made the list before, or that she had obviously gotten over any internal qualms or ethical prohibitions to PUTTING her on the list.

It was an even greater shock to realize she'd included Alexander Waverly, and not just once! That had never, ever happened before.

Perhaps it was time she rethought her current occupation, or at least, her current employer. Perhaps it was time she sought out another line of work. It would appear she was getting a sad case of burnout.

Interesting, that the idea should come to her now, or perhaps not, considering that very discreet suggestion from an old acquaintance. Well, Leonie had been somewhat more than an acquaintance, of course, they'd been almost like sisters. They'd parted ways when Lisa went to work for UNCLE and Leonie went to work for Thrush.

Well, that had been what they call a no-brainer, they could hardly continue sharing an apartment, considering, but sometimes, like now, she had to wonder what her career path would have been if she had joined Leonie at her place of employment. It would appear Thrush had a much more upwardly mobile career path for women than did UNCLE. Well, yes, it was more perilous as well, and one couldn't much plan on a peaceful retirement, not if what she'd heard about their 'retirement plan' was correct. Still, as she had no intentions OF retiring, simply disappearing to that little hidey-hole she had all bought and paid for, perhaps that was a moot issue.

Hmmm, was it too late for a change? After all, many people reinvented themselves later in life, and she was only in her early, well, middle thirties. Frequently, of course, when people changed careers, it was to enter the area of franchises, and that just wasn't for her.

Though, from what Leonie had told her, something quite similar was possible with Thrush, a sort of 'buy-in' program, enabling her to not have to start at the bottom of the ladder. She'd already paid her dues with UNCLE; she wasn't inclined to TOTALLY start over again.

The question was, of course, what did she have to 'buy-in' with? She looked down at her list, once again, as the smile started to grow. It would appear she had a great deal to offer as her buy-in, and she rather thought she would enjoy every bit of the payment. A new career, making a few dreams come true. Talk about having your cake and eating it too!!!

She quickly drew out a fresh notebook to jot down ideas, as she ALWAYS did when starting a new project.

{"Now, which do I start with, most annoying, most FREQUENTLY annoying, most important, least important? Which order would have the greatest impact? No, not impact. Which order will give me the greatest pleasure for the longest period of time, give me the sweetest memories? And I want to take my time with the planning, too. After all, it's not like I'll have this opportunity again."}

 

** Notebook Entries - Lisa Rogers **

**Entry: April 15th:**

How annoying! Mandy Stevenson just left UNCLE to join CONTROL! As an AGENT, if you can believe anything so ridiculous! I think she's now Agent 99 or something like that! I can't imagine the poor fool who is going to end up with HER as a partner!

And I had such a lovely idea for her! She's such a total ditz and so gullible, and it would have been such fun. To think I owe the idea all to Napoleon Solo! I had THOUGHT to send her on another one of those 'special' assignments, one terribly convoluted, but eventually ending up in the Thrush offices over in Long Island. AND carrying a 'secret message', a note to Victor Gervais from yours truly, telling him little Mandy is my present to him, just a token of my esteem. I heard he was quite enchanted with her during their little romp together; I heard he rather embarrassed himself, the randy old fool. I imagine he'd be delighted to have her all to himself!

Of course, while any OTHER Thrush official of his level would probably torture her to death for classified information (which she has absolutely none!), Gervais would have probably set her up in a 'high castle tower' as his 'enchanted princess'. I wonder if he would have ever gotten over the 'gazing worshipfully from afar' phase. Like I said, old fool! Oh, well, possibly gazing worshipfully is all he CAN do; that would explain a lot!

 

**Entry April 29th:**

Mark Slate! Sometimes I swear that man has a death wish! Out gyrating on a crowded dance floor in some stupid A-Go-Go place, and he allows himself to be bopped on the head, dragged off and strapped down, STRIPPED down!, under heat lamps designed to give a tan all the way to the bone! How ridiculous! How embarrassing! How HIM!

Oh, I read their reports, his and April Dancer's, and according to them, he'd already gotten himself free by the time she reached him, but I find that very hard to believe! Trying to salve his ego, THAT'S what I think! If they expect Alexander to believe THAT nonsense, well, they'd better think again! They certainly didn't fool ME!

Well, I have to admit I'm glad she pulled him out of that mess. Oh, I'm not being soft-hearted; that's just not me, but it would totally ruin the plans I've drawn out for the annoying young man! And when I think of how long it took to find a reliable source for quicksand in the state, well, I'd hate to think of all that effort being wasted.

Ah, just picture it! A deserted house with a walled garden, a mysterious message luring him AND his partner there. I found the perfect place, and have already arranged for a suitable pit for the quicksand. Considering his track record, it shouldn't be too much trouble to give him a light tap on the head. I don't want him unconscious for long, just long enough to get him securely ensconced in the middle of that quicksand pool. I DO want him awake for the sinking process!

And April Dancer? Little Miss 'protect my partner at all costs', like THAT'S the way to make your mark as a field agent! Really!! Give her a chance to really do something special and THIS is how she wastes it?? Well, I'll have her trussed up to a tree by the time she regains consciousness from that dose of sleeping spray, close enough she can watch her precious partner sink, sink, sink. First his body, then his neck, the quicksand over his mouth, then slowly disappearing entirely. Oh, how very lovely that will be! I'll be at a window in the house, with binoculars, out of her sight, but where I get to observe every last desperate move he makes, every agonized expression on her face. Ah, total bliss!

  
**Entry May 4th:**

I decided to scratch George Dennell off the list. He's annoying, certainly, just too damned cheerful and eager and everything, but just not important enough to bother with. Besides, he brought me flowers for my birthday. Daisies, rather insipid; I would have prefered tiger lilies, but he did try, which is more than I can say about SOME people!

 

**Entry May 7th:**

Illya Kuryakin, now he IS important enough to bother with, and he's becoming increasingly annoying. I'll have to be sure and deal with him while 'Prince Charming' is otherwise occupied; for someone who resisted working with a partner for so long, Napoleon Solo has become oddly attached to this one and would probably go out of his way to interfere.

The easy way, of course, would be to enlist the unwitting assistance of the FBI or CIA; they never have liked the idea of a Russian in our organization. Silly, of course, at least their reasoning, that he's a 'godless communist'. According to the files, he's not the only communist in the building, though he IS the only Russian. Of course, that accent DOES make him stand out more, and it's not like the others go around with a sign around their necks.

But, 'easy' isn't likely to impress my prospective employer, and Alexander might call in a few favors and get the man back again, so it's best to come up with something different.

I thought about the old 'cherchez la femme' approach; I've noticed a slight weakness for blondes of the air-head variety. I've never understood that, in a man of his intelligence, but maybe he thinks he has brains enough to go around, he doesn't need for a female companion to possess any of her own. But, as I said, it is only a SLIGHT weakness; he doesn't seem to succumb very often, not often enough for that to be reliable. And he'd recognize me, I know, and I don't really want to share this project with any other woman anyway. He does seem to have a way about him, when he makes the effort, and he just might turn any accomplice in his favor.

And then I remembered a few little notes in the files, about that little phobia of his, and realized I had the perfect thing. That man I found down in Georgia, the one who raises the dogs! Cousin Ernie's friend. He mentioned on the phone how difficult it was to find the right 'helpers' in training his animals - the bloodhounds for tracking, those rather large, fierce ones with all the teeth, whatever they are called, for actually bringing down the prey. Yes, I think I can arrange something there, something quite exhilarating all around! We'll see how the 'Ice Prince', Mr. Cool, Calm and Collected handles that!

Of course, I must be sure and document the process, have a few pictures and such, just to prove to my perspective employer that I was the one pulling the strings. Mustn't go to all that effort and not get credit for it! I might even get more than one set of the photographs; Napoleon might like a set as a memento.

  
**Entry May 15th:**

I've reluctantly scratched Miriam Waverly off my list. I have to admit I only put her on out of pique, and it's not like my prospective employer would be impressed by my removal of one unimportant civilian, even if she is Alexander's wife. After all, she'd hardly prove any challenge.

  
**Entry May 20th:**

I just had the most delicious idea for April Dancer. She seems the resilient type, so I imagine she'll be back in the field after a brief period of mourning for her partner. Alexander's not likely to let her get away with moping around the office for long.

She seemed quite taken with that gambler, Joey Celeste, the one Alexander set up in that rather luxurious villa in the middle of nowhere. I imagine a message supposedly from him could get her there easily enough. I imagine a message TO any of the rather large number of people searching for him should get THEM there at the same time. Ah, how romantic, to die, clasped in each other's arms, at the hands of their enemies! One last embrace, one final kiss - sweet sentimentality, and pardon me while I gag!

Again, I'll have to document everything, but it should all be easy enough to arrange.

 

**Entry June 1st:**

Napoleon Solo, Prince Charming. Now for HIM I can easily use the cherchez la femme approach! I'm really quite good with disguises, and HE seems to turn off his brain once his nether region is engaged, so he'll never recognize me til it's too late. I'd use poison under the fingernails and make sure to rake him up pretty good while he is otherwise involved, but that might point back to Angelique, and I hardly want her to get credit for this. Not that I don't respect a woman with her ingenuity and drive, but this is MY project.

Still, I really do LIKE that idea, poison under the nails, him dying as he's lived his life, indulging his insatiable libido. Makes me just squirm, if you know what I mean.

Perhaps there's a way around the issue. What if, before I start this whole process, I give an outline of my whole set of plans to Leonie? That way, as things progress, starting with Mark Slate, she can check them off, and be prepared to stand as witness that it was all my doing? Yes, that could work nicely.

So, poison under the fingernails, and I'll make sure his back looks like he got in a fight with a wildcat. Tee hee, well, that's not too far off, is it? Perhaps THIS time he can actually make the experience pleasurable for me, in at least some respect; heaven knows he didn't manage it the other two times! How he got the reputation he's got, I really will never know!

  
**Entry June 8th:**

Alexander Waverly - ah, the sweetness of saving him for last. He'll probably be despondent by this stage, quite dejected, over all the recent losses. Even though he probably won't be so upset about Mark Slate, still, it hurts the total of the agents he has in the field, and he WILL feel that. And the others? His pets? Oh, he'll feel that well enough!

He'll be smoking more, certainly, he always does when he's upset. And with his extreme allergy, well, a highly-concentrated essence of walnuts added to his Isle of Dogs tobacco, one good pipe-full should be quite sufficient. Perhaps I'll arrange to be taking dictation while he's smoking that pipe. I'd rather like that.

April Fools Day, indeed! Having me chase around like some little ninny after his whims! AND he didn't show up for my birthday either! Just because his granddaughter had a piano recital! No call, no flowers, just that "so terribly sorry, my dear" the next time we met. Really!!!

I must remember to send flowers to the grieving widow.

  
  


 

**June 16th:**

Lisa Rogers was fuming. It just wasn't fair! She'd put in all that work on her special project, had it all planned out, even had a good start on some of the arrangements, and then Leonie had to go and do something stupid and get herself 'retired'.

Oh, Lisa knew what the family and the newspapers had said, 'unexpected heart attack. Dreadful, really, for a woman in the prime of life!' No, Lisa knew that Leonie had gotten a little too ambitious and it hadn't gone over well with her immediate superior.

Lisa understood THAT, of course; she'd taken care of a few 'odd jobs' like that for Alexander, after all.

It was just that, after all that work on figuring out just the right way, the most enjoyable way to proceed to pick up that 'franchise' from Thrush, without Leonie, she no longer had a contact to make it happen! It was SO frustrating!

She pulled out the notebook, started thumbing through it, smiling at the detailed scenarios she'd created.

{"I suppose I really should shred it; it would be awkward if anyone discovered it, was able to figure it all out."}

But she didn't shred it, not then, deciding she needed to give the matter a great deal more thought.

{"After all, there's no real need to be hasty; it's my own private shorthand, based on a book of my grandmother's, quite different from any modern versions,"} and she tucked the notebook back in her desk.

{"It will make good lunchtime reading, very cathartic. Besides, another opportunity just might arise, who knows? I might just reach out to one or two individuals I've heard about, just as a feeler. At least I need to go ahead with the plan for Mark Slate; after all the hole is already dug, the quicksand already paid for, just waiting for my call to be delivered. No, THAT one, at least, I need to complete!"}

 

  **June 25th:**

They were supposed to be going over the quarterly reports, her making notes of upcoming goals, doing a few employee reviews, but Nooo! Mrs. Waverly had to show up, polite smile on her face, polite greeting on her lips, and proceed to monopolize Alexander in his office for the whole morning!

Lisa had finally left for lunch, leaving a note on her desk that she'd be back in forty-five minutes. Perhaps a chicken salad sandwich and a bowl of soup would ease her temper at the unexpected disruption of the office schedule. Whatever it was, surely it could have waited til Alexander got back home!

  
They were waiting when she got back from lunch, waiting to take her security badge, her gun; waiting to escort her for that supposedly painless process of removing all memory of UNCLE, all memory of the people standing around her. All her protests fell on deaf ears, and she was led away, while the whole of UNCLE watched.

Well, perhaps not the WHOLE of UNCLE, just those who happened to be within view; Alexander Waverly had no intention of turning this into a circus. It was already embarrassing enough.

"It's lucky I had all that training and experience with cryptology during the war. And equally lucky she was using a variation on the old Mellan version of shorthand cryptology; surprising, that, I'd have thought it was too far before her time," Miriam Waverly said, glancing once again through that sheaf of pages April Dancer had photocopied and brought to her a few days ago.

The older woman made a point of NOT looking at her husband, who was looking even gruffer than usual, his face oddly flushed. He hadn't looked at her directly since she'd placed the photocopy and her translation on his desk, kindly pointing out salient areas of particular interest.

Now he huffed, "yes, yes, of course. Quite fortunate, that. And quite fortunate Miss Dancer became suspicious. Perhaps sometime you might explain just how that came about, Miss Dancer." He didn't like the idea that the young woman might have been spying on him or his secretary, though of course, he could hardly argue with the results. After all, if she HADN'T, he most likely wouldn't have been around to argue about anything!

April nodded, "certainly, sir. At your convenience, of course."

Just how to go about that, diplomatically, would be rather challenging. How DO you explain your partner liked poking around in the guts of the computers in his spare time, and came across all that odd research Mr. Waverley's secretary was engaged in - exotic poisons, walnut extracts, dog breeders, information on Joey Celeste, and a variety of other things, including, of all things, quicksand - information on and sources for, in fact. He'd mentioned it to April, April had become curious about what the rather detached Miss Lisa Rogers would find of such interest in those quite diverse subjects. Add Miss Roger's pulling up the obituary of a Miss Leonie Dubonnet, a Thrush employee, plus information on Victor Gervais, also of Thrush, well, April had decided to take a closer look.

While it was hardly the approved thing to go rummaging around in a co-worker's desk, still that notebook had caught her attention, with the names on the first page, then repeated almost as if chapter headings: Napoleon Solo, Illya Kuryakin, Mark Slate, April Dancer, Mandy Stevenson, George Dennell, Miriam Waverly, Alexander Waverly. Gervais' name had showed up as well, along with Joey's.

She'd taken the opportunity to photocopy the pages, replacing the book exactly as she'd found it, thinking she might be able to break the code, also thinking she was going to feel very foolish if this was something perfectly innocent, or a project Mr. Waverly had asked Miss Rogers to handle. When she was unable to break the code, she remembered a conversation she'd had with Mrs. Waverly, about her work during WWII, and decided to take a chance.

"Alexander? I'm getting hungry; perhaps we might go get a bite to eat? And while we're out, shouldn't we see about retrieving any little items Miss Rogers might have in her possession that she really won't need anymore? I believe her flat is not too terribly far from here?" Miriam's expression was all anyone could have asked, calm, gracious, helpful. If she knew about his spare pipe, tobacco, robe and pajamas, and a few other items, she didn't specify any of those.

"And perhaps Personnel could arrange for someone to take over your outer desk until you decide on a replacement for Miss Rogers. We might possibly discuss your requirements over lunch. You might need to make a modification or two, considering, perhaps not expecting one person to handle such diverse responsibilities. I imagine it was all rather taxing on Miss Roger's nervous system. Now, about lunch. Tarantella's, perhaps? You know, I think I just might indulge in one of their ever so decadent desserts, just this once. I know it's not being faithful to my diet, but perhaps it's not really cheating if it's only once in a great while. Everyone deserves a little break now and again, as long as one is sensible about it, don't you think? Sensible and discreet, that's the ticket, and careful not to let it get out of hand. Dreadful if things were to get out of hand."

April felt her lips tremble, but she did NOT smile, refused to smile. She'd always admired Miriam Waverly, perhaps more now than ever before. {"I think I want to be her when I grow up!"}

They watched the two walk away, and Mark whispered to April, "should I ask, luv?"

"No, darling, best not," and he nodded, deciding she was probably right. He already had enough to digest with the ever-so-proper Miss Rogers' plans for all of them. Finding out there really WAS an empty house, with a walled garden, at the address she'd listed in her notebook, one with a very deep pit having been recently dug - well, that had been quite sobering at best.

Just then an ear-piercing shriek came from the direction they'd taken Lisa Rogers.

"My God!" Napoleon declared. "What was that??!"

"I believe it is called a primal scream, Napoleon. It is supposedly very cathartic. Perhaps Miss Rogers should have tried those earlier. It might have alleviated some of her stress," Illya deadpanned.

 


End file.
